Foma, Wampeters and Granfalloons

Excellent glimpse over at Herculodge into the psychology of the misfit writer:

“But instead I’m a wannabe. Actually, that's too kind. I’m not even a wannabe. I’m one of those defective toys in Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer who live on Misfit Island. No one wants them, not even impoverished children.”

Are blogs the literary equivalent of the Island of Misfit toys?

Maybe bars are the lush's equivalent. Church the downtrodden's. Academia the skeptic's. Patriotism the scoundrel's. Etc.

Maybe we're all misfits, and maybe we collect ourselves in small groups to affirm our worth in a world that is too busy examining its navel to recognize it.

Foma, wampeters and granfalloons.

Unfortunately, writers are rather solitary personalities and often become insufferable in each other's company.

I wrote a letter to Kurt Vonnegut before he died, on Nantucket, I believe. Just a nice how-do-you-do, I respect the hell out of you. It was returned as undeliverable. But someone (the postman or current resident) wrote a city and question mark on it. I thought that was nice of them. I never resent it.

Started 2012-06-01